


Take One Breath

by phyripo



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Weddings, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-15 04:00:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9217907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phyripo/pseuds/phyripo
Summary: Maybe suffering through hours of his brother’s fretting about his wedding and an endless loop of Christmas songs is worth it, Andrei decides, if a guy like Luca Morgens turns out to be selling waffles next to him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> And, once more, a gift for [kuzeykirkland](http://kuzeykirkland.tumblr.com/)! Featuring a Christmas market, skating, a wedding, and more champagne than is strictly advisable. The title has absolutely nothing to do with the story, but it's one of my favorite songs (by Sonata Arctica) and always reminds me of LuxMold for some vague reason.
> 
> Human names (this was a lot of fun, since as I've mentioned before, I usually use Luca for Moldova :V )  
> Belgium - Anri Morgens  
> Bulgaria - Tsvetan Borisov(-Radacanu)  
> Luxembourg - Luca Morgens  
> Moldova - Andrei Radacanu  
> Netherlands - Adriaan Morgens  
> Romania - Alin Radacanu(-Borisov)

_December 20_

For the first time in his life, Andrei is getting genuinely annoyed by his brother’s company.

“Al— Alin!”

Alin looks up from his phone distractedly, then almost drops the thing when Andrei shoots a sharp look from him to the woman standing in front of their stall.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry!” he blurts, and Andrei rolls his eyes as he scrambles to help the middle-aged woman with her purchase. Without looking, he knows that Alin is going to start talking about his upcoming wedding again right about now, and the woman will immediately forget all about his rudeness to ask him a million questions. Any other time, Andrei would be certain that Alin was using it as a marketing scheme, but he doesn’t seem to be able shut up about the wedding to him either.

And, well, he’s happy for his brother, of course he is, and he loves the man’s fiancé, Tsvetan, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t annoying as all hell to keep hearing him fret over everything and nothing, and who even gets married on New Year’s Eve, anyway? Alin Radacanu, that’s who.

The woman leaves, smiling broadly at Alin and wishing him a merry Christmas. He waves at her, then shoots a smug smile at Andrei.

“Yeah, you’re amazing and you’re getting married, I know,” Andrei sighs, exaggerating only a little.

Alin laughs. “You’re just jealous.”

“You _wish_ , Mr Borisov!” Andrei laughs too, ducking away when his brother swipes at him and protests something about _hyphenating_. Some people walking by in front of the stall look at them oddly. Andrei grins at them, shaking his hair out of his eyes.

It isn’t that busy on the Christmas market yet; most people are still at work these days, so they’ve seen mostly elderly people since they opened, and most of them aren’t really interested in the Radacanus’ merchandise. Even though Andrei and Tsvetan managed to convince Alin to leave the oddest things at his shop, the collection of tarot cards and shimmery stones and necklaces and swishy scarves is still an odd one out on the market. Most people sell hats and gloves and Christmas decorations from their little wooden houses, and there are a number of food stalls.

In fact, they’re right next to one that sells waffles, and the sweet smell has permeated everything. Andrei is dying for a waffle right about now. Has been for the past few days.

He pushes a glove down to glance at his watch. It’s almost three. That’s a good time for a waffle, he supposes.

“Do you want a waffle?” he asks Alin.

“Hm? Sure. Are you getting one?” He jerks his head at the side of their stall, where the waffle woman sells her waffles. Alin must have mentioned her name – he has talked to her a few times when they both arrived at their stalls, probably about his wedding – but Andrei’s forgotten. He knows she’s quite tall and usually wears her hair in interesting swirls with headbands that match her dresses.

“Yeah.” He opens the door at the back of the little house. “Do you want chocolate or something?”

“Sugar!” Alin calls after him. And, when Andrei loops back around the front of the stall on his way to the waffles, “I changed my mind, I want chocolate.”

“Are you sure?” Andrei asks, without slowing down. Alin leans out of the stall, but doesn’t say anything. Andrei grins.

There is one other person waiting at the waffle stall, so he gets in line behind her and waits patiently, rubbing his gloved hands together. It hasn’t snowed, but it is cold, so he’s holding out hope.

Quickly, it’s Andrei’s turn, and he looks up at – _not_ waffle woman.

He blinks.

No, definitely not waffle woman. A man, pale and blond, thin eyebrows raised at his silence. He doesn’t look like he should work in a waffle stall, Andrei thinks. He looks like he should be in a fucking magazine, with a face like that, all high cheekbones and faint freckles and full lips. Andrei bites his own lower lip. The man leans forward a little, fine hair falling across one eye.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

“Huh?” Oh, shit. “Yeah, ah— Two waffles, please?”

“Right away,” says the man, smiling faintly and turning to pour batter over the waffle maker. Over his shoulder, he asks, “Do you want a topping? We’ve got chocolate—”

“Chocolate, yes,” Andrei blurts.

“Both of them?”

“Yeah, yeah. Please.” He bites his lip again, trying to calm his heart by taking steady breaths. Andrei knows he is prone to falling head over heels for every other attractive person he sees, and this guy is _definitely_ one of those. It’s nothing to be concerned about. Or embarrassed, or whatever the hell is causing his breath to get stuck in his throat when the man takes his money with long, thin fingers and another faint smile.

“What happened to…” Well, he can’t say waffle woman, can he? He gestures vaguely at the stall. The man looks around.

“Anri?” he asks, and for a second Andrei thinks he just said his name, but he shakes his head quickly, then nods. “She’s just on a break, asked me to look after her waffles. Were you looking for her?”

Andrei shakes his head again. “Not really, no. My – my brother would probably like me to say hi to her or something.”

“Your brother?” the man asks curiously, as he swipes his hair out of his face with an absentminded gesture and picks up the waffles in the same motion. Andrei inclines his head toward Alin’s stall. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see his brother prattling on to yet another old woman.

“He’s right over there with his stuff. He talks to her sometimes.”

“Does he?” The man’s eyes sparkle, though he’s looking down at the chocolate he’s pouring over the waffles. Andrei bites his lower lip again. The man turns to him, reaching over to hand him the waffles. He’s probably not that much older than Andrei, he reckons. Early twenties at most.

“Shall I pass a message?” he’s asking.

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it. I’m sure they’ll see each other around.”

“Well, enjoy your waffle, then, and have a good day. And happy holidays.”

“Same to you.” Andrei grins, biting his lower lip again and glancing away when the man smiles, hair falling back over his right eye. “See you.”

He nods, and Andrei walks back to Alin to get him his waffle.

It is the best waffle he’s ever had.

* * *

_December 21_

Still no snow, and the Christmas music playing at the small ice rink in the middle of the market is starting to irk Andrei, though he thinks that has more to do with Alin’s attempts at karaoke than the actual noise.

Well, he’s stopped now.

He’s _stopped_. Andrei glances around the stall suspiciously, and sighs. Alin’s gone again, probably out back calling Tsvetan or his man of honor or future mother-in-law or whoever the hell else, leaving him to fend for the merchandise all by himself. He pushes his fingers through his hair, gathering it up in the back as if to pull it into a ponytail, but the front strands escape immediately, flopping into his eyes. He sighs again.

Someone clears their throat. Andrei whirls back to the front of the stall so fast that his hair slaps against his cheek, apologies ready for undoubtedly yet another old—

“Oh,” he says. “Hi!”

The man’s eyes widen, a careful smile edging around his full lips. Andrei sucks his cheeks in and forces his gaze up to the sparkling eyes. This time, he is the one looking down at him. The guy from the waffle stall. If possible, he looks even more handsome than yesterday, bundled up in a long grey coat, with a green scarf knotted around his neck.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I think so. Anri sent me over.” He pushes the curtain of blond hair away with leather-gloved fingers.

“Anri, right, your…”

“Sister.” He smiles. “We seem to be in the same predicament with our siblings.”

“It seems so.” His _sister_! Score one for Andrei; at least she’s not his girlfriend. For once, he’s hoping that Alin and Tsvetan – or whoever – get into one of those ridiculously finicky discussions about the wedding, about the tassels on the tablecloths or something, and his brother stays out back for an eternity.

“So, your sister, what does she want, then?”

“I’m actually… Uncertain. She was rather unclear, but it should be a gift for a woman.”

That shouldn’t be too hard. Andrei helps the man select a necklace with a nice green stone that, he notices _completely on accident_ , matches not only his scarf, but his eyes as well.

Some other people slow down to look at the merchandise, but no one actually stops, and the man seems to have no compunctions about lingering a bit longer.

“So where is your brother?” he asks curiously, leaning his elbows on the wooden counter.

“Out back. Probably freaking out about his wedding.”

“He’s getting married? Congratulations! When’s the party?”

Andrei leans on the counter too, arms stretched so his feet lift off the ground and he is standing on his tiptoes.

“The 31st.”

“ _December_ 31 st? New Year’s Eve?”

“Yep.”

“Good grief. I’ve never heard of anyone getting married on New Year’s Eve before.” He looks around at the merchandise, gaze lingering on a moon chart. Andrei chuckles.

“It wasn’t his idea, believe it or not. If it’d been left up to him, they would probably be getting married on a new moon or a full moon or whatever the fuck kind of moon. His fiancé’s way weirder than even I give him credit for. Has to be, to put up with my brother.”

That makes the man laugh softly and turn the green gaze on Andrei.

“It must be hectic.”

Andrei rolls his eyes. “You have no idea. I think he’s freaking out about pictures at the moment. No one wants to work on New Year’s Eve, so they can’t find a photographer. At this rate, I’m gonna have to do it.”

The man suddenly stands up straight and rifles through the pockets of his long grey coat, pulling a piece of paper out. He takes one glove off and smoothes the paper on the counter.

“Do you have a pen?” he asks Andrei, who hands him one curiously. He eyes the glittery purple thing in amusement, but removes the cap and scribbles something on the paper.

“If your brother and his fiancé still need a photographer when he’s done freaking out, you can tell them…” He carefully folds the piece of paper in two and rips it along the line. “You can tell them that my brother is a photographer, and he would be more than happy to take pictures, even on New Year’s Eve.” He looks up at Andrei through pale eyelashes while he folds both pieces of paper one time.

“Oh, really? They’d appreciate that!”

“Good. So this is for your brother,” he says, holding one scrap between index and middle finger. Andrei plucks it from his hand, grinning. Alin will be pleased.

“And this…” He holds the other piece out. Andrei takes it slowly, curiously. “That’s for you. Nice seeing you again.”

“For me? I—”

The man is pulling his glove back on and tucking in his dark green scarf. He picks up the necklace for his sister, putting it in his pocket.

“Thanks again. See you, perhaps. Let me know.”

He disappears quickly into a small crowd that mills by. All Andrei can do is blink after him. Then he looks down at the paper he’s holding, the second piece. Slowly unfolds it.

Grins at the name and the phone number that greet him in elegant glittery purple hand.

 _Luca Morgens_  
_(from the waffles)_  
_24 25 759 39_  
  
_I’ll be around for a while longer_

The door bangs open and Alin strides in, gnawing on his lower lip. Still grinning, Andrei gives him the other piece of paper.

“I found you a photographer.”

* * *

_December 22_

In the end, Andrei doesn’t even have to send _Luca_ a message, because he sees him walking by the next day, hands in the pockets of the grey coat and gaze lingering on the Radacanus’ stall. Andrei is hidden by the scarves, so the man doesn’t see him, but he quickly tells Alin to mind his business and bolts out the back door without paying attention to his reaction.

When he loops back around the front, he hears his brother shout after him, but he grins and dashes after the familiar grey coat. Luca doesn’t seem to be helping his sister today. Andrei catches him by the shoulder.

“Hey!” he says brightly when the man turns around, trying to keep his breathing even. Now that they’re on even ground, Luca turns out to be just a little taller than Andrei. He smiles, turning fully to him.

“Hi! I didn’t see you.” He gestures at the stall, then raises one eyebrow. “Your brother doesn’t appear to be very happy at the moment. At least, I assume that is him.”

“Probably.”

He nods. “You look a lot like him.”

“So I’ve been told.” Andrei bites his lip. “Don’t pay attention to him. I, ah… So, Luca? That’s a nice name.”

“You think so? Thanks.” The man pushes his hair out of his eyes. “I hope I didn’t… That is to say, I hope you didn’t mind me doing that.”

Andrei laughs. “Do I look like I mind?”

Luca shakes his head, obviously amused – his eyes are twinkling again.

“I’m Andrei,” he offers.

“Andrei. Nice to meet you. Again. Do you have time to walk around the market with me? Your brother seems to be insisting you come back.” He squints past him at the man in question.

Huffing, Andrei waves it away. “He’ll survive without me. Let’s walk!”

And so they take off, past the waffle stall – Luca waves at his sister, who grins at the both of them delightedly – and saunter to the ice rink on a platform in the middle of the square. It’s slowly been getting more crowded over the past days, but the way the Christmas holidays fall this year, most people are still not free from work, so it’s still nowhere near as busy as it could be.

They lean on the wooden banister and watch the skaters stumble and glide. Andrei can’t help but hum along to the music. He sees Luca smiling from the corner of his eye, and grins at the man.

“Do you and your brother do this more often?” he asks. “The Christmas market?”

“Only the second time, this year. It’s fun, though. It’s something different. What about you and your sister?”

He looks down at his gloves, then at Andrei, who leans his hip against the railing, turning towards him. When Luca turns to Andrei too, it brings them well within each other’s space, but neither of them moves back. Score _two_ , Andrei thinks gleefully. This is promising.

“She usually handles it well enough by herself, but I’ve always liked helping her out now and then. As you say, it’s something different.” He slowly wets his lips, gaze flickering between Andrei’s face and the ice rink. “What do you do, usually, rather than sell necklaces?”

Andrei laughs. “I started studying history earlier this year.” He practically sees Luca start the mental math; how old is he? He decides to save him the trouble. “I’m eighteen. I also help Alin out in his shop _and_ I’m starting as a bartender after the holidays.”

“Oh, wow. You’re very busy.”

“That I am.” He bites his lip, smiling lopsidedly. “And you?”

“I’m twenty-one, for starters.” His gaze remains steady on Andrei’s face now, and Andrei can only look back. “And I’m hoping to finish my cinematography study next year.”

“Cinematography? That’s cool.”

He shrugs, looking through his lashes. “I like movies. Say, Andrei, how do you feel about skating?”

With a glance at the ice rink, he replies, “Neutral? I’m not very good at it, but it’s fun! Are you suggesting…”

“We’re here now, aren’t we?” He raises one eyebrow. “Yes? No? I promise I can catch you if you fall. I did figure skating for a while when I was younger.”

Well, Andrei can’t possibly say no that, can he? He doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone who actually did figure skating.

“Yeah,” Luca says, when he asks as they wait in the small queue, “I did all kinds of posh sports as a child.”

“Is figure skating a posh sport?” Andrei laughs. “I didn’t know there was such a thing.”

“Figure skating, hockey, tennis, horseback riding… Oh, I did ballroom dancing, too. Don’t laugh at me,” he adds petulantly.

Andrei laughs anyway, lightly shoving him with his shoulder, hands in the pockets of his big coat. “So would you say that you _are_ posh, or were you faking it?”

“Posh, I don’t know. Rich, yes.”

“Nice,” Andrei says jokingly. Mostly jokingly, anyway. They move forward in line and reach the front, where they can pick out skates their size, put them on, and wait their turn on the ice. Andrei quickly pulls half of his hair into a bun to avoid getting it into his eyes the entire time. When he looks up at Luca, the man nods and smiles, his gaze _slowly_ dragging down to the skates. He meets Andrei’s eye when he looks back up, smiling innocently. Andrei shakes his head, amused.

A throat is cleared pointedly, and Andrei laughs when Luca stumbles and blushes as a woman who is barely stifling her own laughter directs them to the rink. She waggles her eyebrows at Andrei. He quickly turns away before he collapses with mirth.

“Oh, shush,” Luca says when he joins him.

“I wasn’t saying anything!”

“You were thinking.”

“I _was_ , Luca. About a lot of things.” He raises his eyebrows and smirks, then lightly pushes at his companion’s waist. “Well, show me some figure skating!”

“Bossy,” Luca mumbles, but he does loop around the rink gracefully, coat flying out behind him.

“Go backwards!” Andrei yells when he passes by, and he pulls an incredulous face but does. His hair flutters around his face. Andrei holds on to the banister and watches. Eventually, Luca skids to a halt close to him, his breath slightly uneven.

“It’s no fun all by myself,” he says, a twinkle in his eye. One gloved hand reaches out to Andrei. “Come on, then.”

Biting his lip, Andrei takes the hand and finds himself pulled towards Luca, the noses of their skates nearly touching. He clings to the man until his feet feel like they won’t slip out underneath him anymore, then grins up at him. Andrei knows that he _can_ skate, but it’s been a long time since he’s actually done it.

Luca swipes his hair away with his free hand, smiles a little, and turns smoothly so they’re facing the same way. Without further warning, he tugs Andrei along the edge of the ice rink, chuckling when he stumbles at first. However, to Andrei’s credit, he gets into the flow of it quickly, and he probably looks like a bumbling idiot next to Luca, but it really doesn’t matter, because it’s fun. The cold air rushing around them makes his eyes sting and water, but he can’t seem to stop grinning despite that.

His fingers tingle with the warmth bleeding through Luca’s glove. He holds on tighter when the man turns backwards again.

“Oh my god, look out!” he laughs when Luca holds his gaze for a little too long instead of looking over his shoulder, and he’s sure they’re going to crash into the banister.

They don’t do that, but the sharp turn Luca executes does make Andrei’s legs slip out from underneath him, and he takes Luca down in his inevitable fall.

He’s laughing too hard to get up, so he just leans his back against the railing while Luca apologizes, getting up, then seems to realize what Andrei is doing and starts giggling along with him. He sinks back down. His coat pools around him. The ice is freezing through Andrei’s clothes, but Luca pushes at his shoulder good-naturedly, and he barely notices.

They sit there, laughing and leaning on one another, until the woman from before skates over easily to tell them to stop hogging the ice if they’re not going to use it, which results in Andrei having to be hauled up by both of them so they can make a few more rounds around the rink, mostly in companionable silence.

After a while, Luca speeds up a little to a patch without other people on it. Before Andrei can follow, the man’s skates click together, and he makes a small jump, landing on shaky legs but staying upright. He smiles at Andrei over his shoulder. Andrei dutifully applauds, as do a couple standing on the edge of the rink. Luca bows towards them, then skates back to Andrei.

“I’ve never gotten very far in figure skating,” he says.

“Further than I ever will,” Andrei replies, in response to which Luca takes his hand and tries to teach him to skate backwards.

By the time they leave the ice, Andrei has managed to skate exactly zero feet backwards and his ears are burning with the cold. Rather than go back to Alin, he convinces Luca to go and get some mulled wine with him, which they drink cautiously close to the stall where Andrei managed to finagle two cups for the price of one. Luca, he noted, looked duly impressed. He doesn’t know that the guy manning the stall is Andrei’s new boss.

Andrei wraps his fingers around the warm paper cup and inhales the spicy scent of the wine, warming up his entire body.

“This was – is – fun,” Luca is saying softly, leaning his elbows on the high table, both hands curled around his cup, gloves discarded on the table.

“Yeah,” Andrei breathes. The market bustles around them, yet they are caught in each other’s space – Andrei’s gaze lingers on Luca’s full lips as they wrap around the rim of the cup, wine sloshing against them. He blushes when a corner of them tips up and takes a large gulp of his own drink.

“So,” Luca says, and he licks his lips, the traitor, “it would be fun do to it again?”

Andrei grins. “I think it would. You wrote you’d be around for ‘a while’, right?”

“Until the end of the holidays. I live in the next city over, though…” He looks down at his cup, tipping his head back to drain the last of his wine, which reveals a long, pale neck. Andrei glances away quickly, but he still catches a faint smirk.

“So yeah, ah… We can text? Or you can stop by whenever, I’ll be helping Alin for a while.”

“I don’t want to keep snatching you from your brother.” Luca laughs.

Well, Andrei supposes Alin does need him back at the stall, especially if the upwards trend in visitors continues. And, as if on cue, he hears his name being called over the noise of people, and grimaces. Luca raises an eyebrow, but then his mouth opens in a small ‘o’, and he releases a short breath through his nose, as if in a laugh.

“I probably should go,” Andrei says, regretfully downing his own wine. Luca stacks their cups, and they walk to the bin together. Alin’s calling is coming closer, and Luca seems amused.

“I hope I’ll see you around then, Andrei.”

Andrei nods. “I hope so too.” He bites his lower lip and pushes the toe of his shoe against the cobblestones on the ground. When he looks back up at Luca, the man is smiling softly, hands pushed into the pockets of his coat. Andrei huffs at the sudden awkwardness, takes a small, resolute step forward, and stands on his toes to press his lips against Luca’s cheek. It’s burning hot.

When he pulls back, Luca’s once-again gloved hands clasp his upper arms, keeping him close. Andrei looks up at him questioningly. The green eyes are searching and half-closed, and Andrei’s heart beats in his throat when Luca comes closer and closer, and his lips press against the corner of Andrei’s. Andrei spreads his hands over the coat, eyes closing briefly.

“I do have to… Alin’s gonna go crazy,” he mumbles, with Luca’s breath still hot on his chin. His lips were soft, and Andrei can just imagine how amazing it would feel to have them pressed against his own, or all over his body, maybe… He clears his throat and steps back, willing himself to resist the temptation.

“Yes. Well, good luck,” Luca says. “See you.” He runs his hand up over Andrei’s arm and strokes his jaw quickly as he pulls his hand back.

“See you.” He flashes Luca a smile, then dashes off in the direction of Alin’s voice before he manages to linger even longer.

“Andrei!” Alin yells when he sees him. “Come on, you can’t just run off like that!”

“Sorry, sorry!”

It’s a good thing his brother is so frazzled, Andrei thinks, so that he doesn’t notice Andrei’s perpetual grin.

* * *

_December 23_

Andrei is barely awake yet, and it’s hard to keep track of Alin’s movement through the kitchen. He flits and flutters from here to there, mumbling to himself. On the opposite side of the table, Tsvetan calmly crunches through his cereal while he reads the newspaper. He glances over his shoulder at Alin.

“What are you doing?” he mumbles.

“Have you seen the honey?”

Tsvetan gestures with his spoon, mouth full as he answers, “It’s right there, love.”

“What?” Alin pushes his hands into his hair. Andrei holds the jar of honey up. “Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

He finally sits down next to Tsvetan and restlessly slathers honey on his bread. Tsvetan and Andrei share an amused look.

“I can see you two conspiring against me, you know,” Alin says without looking up. He tugs Tsvetan’s newspaper over, then seems to change his mind and points his slice of bread at Andrei. “Andrei! I meant to talk to you about yesterday.”

Andrei sighs, and Tsvetan raises his eyebrows curiously, pausing in tugging the newspaper back.

“Who _was_ that guy?”

“Ooh,” Tsvetan whispers, and Alin pokes him in the side. He laughs.

“Just someone I met, okay?” Andrei says, rolling his eyes at Tsvetan. “We went for a walk around the market.”

“Someone you met. Okay.” Alin chews on his lip, thin eyebrows knitting together. “I just want you to be careful, okay? How old is he? He looked older than you.”

“Twenty-one, and _yes_ , I’ll be careful.”

“ _Twenty-one_ —”

“Alin, come on,” Tsvetan interrupts, amusedly tugging his fiancé’s arm back to stop him flinging honey and breadcrumbs all over the kitchen table. “Don’t be a hypocrite about that, of all things. It’s only three years, they’re both adults.”

“I wasn’t going to – to tell him he couldn’t hang out with him!” He puts his bread down dutifully and points a finger at Andrei instead. “But be careful, okay?”

“You said that before,” Andrei replies. “And Tsvetan is four years older than you.”

“You know what I mean.”

Andrei nods. He knows. He knows Alin gets anxious about being a good guardian for him, even though he has had absolutely nothing to be worried about all these years, and he knows his brother means well. And honestly, he doesn’t mind being coddled a little every now and then. It’s kind of cute, in an… Alin sort of way.

Tsvetan leans over to Alin, putting an arm around his shoulders and pushing his nose against the man’s temple. His dark hair, still sticking up haphazardly from sleeping, pokes into Alin’s eye, and they both laugh. Tsvetan turns to Andrei.

“So obviously, I’ve got no idea what’s going on here, but if you want to hang out with your guy more, I can help Alin out tomorrow, maybe, so you can have some free time?”

“His _guy_ ,” Alin mumbles with amusement, pressing his palm against Tsvetan’s chest. Andrei is pretty sure the shirt the man is wearing belongs to his brother, but he’s learned years ago not to pay attention to things like that. It’s very much like thinking about one’s parents having sex to think about Alin and Tsvetan being intimate. In a way, they _are_ his parents, he supposes, innocent childhood crush on Tsvetan notwithstanding.

“Well, I don’t know his name, do I? What’s your guy’s name, Andrei?”

“He’s not my guy, and his name is Luca. And I’d love to hang out with him more.”

Tsvetan grins at him, then kisses Alin’s temple and gets up, putting his bowl and mug next to the sink. “So I’ll help you out tomorrow, Alin. I gotta go get ready now. Good luck at the market!” With a wink, he flounces out of the kitchen.

“Oh, now he proves he has it in him to be romantic,” Alin mutters. And, when Andrei laughs, “That was coming from the man who proposed to me by saying, ‘Hey, don’t you think we should get married?’ over _the dishes_.”

Still laughing, Andrei says, “I know, Alin, I know.” He’s heard it a thousand times by now. It’s still amusing, though more so when Tsvetan is around to act indignant about his supposed lack of romance.

They eat the rest of their breakfast in peaceful silence. Tsvetan rushes by on the way to work, ruffling Andrei’s hair and kissing Alin, and Alin reads the newspaper while Andrei absentmindedly scrolls through his phone. He sent Luca a message last night, just to make sure he had his number too, but hasn’t received anything back yet.

Later, back at the market and drowning in the smell of waffles and a wave of tourists, he feels his phone buzz. He surreptitiously checks it, grinning when he sees it’s a message from Luca.

**[Luca]** Sorry for the late reply! I’m not around today, maybe tomorrow? If your brother doesn’t mind that is :)

Full sentences, too. That makes perfect sense for some reason. Andrei checks that Alin is still occupied and quickly types a message back.

**[Andrei]** np! I told alin i wouldn’t run off today :U  
**[Andrei]** but his fiance promised to help out tomorrow so we could hang out then : O

He puts his phone away when his brother glances at him suspiciously, and doesn’t take it back out, despite the buzzing that he feels, until Alin allows him a break.

**[Luca]** That would be great! Should I just stop by the market  
  
**[Andrei]** yeah i think that’d work!!

A reply follows quickly. Andrei wipes some breadcrumbs from his screen to read it, and grins.

**[Luca]** Around noon, then? Maybe we can have lunch somewhere  
  
**[Andrei]** waffles?  
  
**[Luca]** Please not : \  
  
**[Andrei]** I was joking don’t worry : DD i know a few places!  
  
**[Luca]** Great!  
**[Luca]** Your brother didn’t give you any trouble did he?  
  
**[Andrei]** he doesn’t really do that  
**[Andrei]** he did say thanks for recommending the photographer btw : O  
**[Andrei]** even if he didn’t know it was you who did that

Andrei glances over at Alin, who’s nearly buried in his blanket of a scarf embroidered with constellations. Really, he sometimes thinks he doesn’t show his brother enough just how much he appreciates everything he’s done for him. Given up for him. He waves when Alin looks up.

**[Luca]** Good to hear  
  
**[Andrei]** I should get back now  
**[Andrei]** but I'll see you tomorrow!! : D  
  
**[Luca]** Go then! :) See you soon  
  
**[Andrei]** bye :00

“That your _guy_?” Alin jokes when Andrei returns to the stall, glancing at the pocket of his coat where he keeps his phone.

“Who knows,” Andrei says, tucking his hair behind his ears and biting his lip. “He just might be.”

* * *

_December 24_

The whole town is covered in a blanket of white. Andrei and Alin had a snowball fight in the backyard before packing up and going to the market for their second-to-last day of manning Alin’s stall. Sales have been picking up with the arrival of more and more younger people, and Alin is expecting good business this Christmas Eve.

The Christmas market itself goes on longer, but Alin and Tsvetan want to use the last days of the year to finish preparing for their wedding. Andrei’d had no idea how much work it was to get married. Or perhaps the two of them are just making it into that. They do tend to do that.

Whatever the case, Tsvetan shows up around eleven without a scarf, in reaction to which Alin yanks one from the rack and knots it around his neck before even kissing him in greeting.

“Wow, hello to you too.”

“Can’t have you showing up to your own wedding sick, Borisov,” Alin says, and Tsvetan shrugs at Andrei, who’s trying to stifle his laughter into his coat. Rather unsuccessfully.

The snow on the square has turned sludgy by the time Luca shows up, red nose tucked over the edge of his own scarf.

“Is _that_ the guy?” Tsvetan asks, eyebrows jumping. “Not bad. Is it a family trait to have good taste?”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Alin exclaims, slapping the man’s arm while he laughs. “You’re fucking _terrible_ , why are we getting married?”

All three of them are laughing a little hysterically by the time Luca reaches the stall – all the other visitors seem to be giving them a rather wide berth all of a sudden.

“Uhm,” he says.

Alin is the first one who manages to collect himself. He rakes his fingers through his wispy hair, then leans forward, thrusting his hand out at Luca, who shakes it with a small smile.

“Luca, right? I’m Alin, Andrei’s brother.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Yes!” Andrei interrupts. His breathing is still uneven, but at least he isn’t laughing anymore. “And that’s Tsvetan, Alin’s fiancé. I’ll come around the back, okay?”

“Sure.”

Alin hugs him before he leaves, as he tends to do, and Andrei can hear Tsvetan starting up one of those awkward conversations he excels at with stranger, so he hurries around the row of stalls to save Luca from that.

They walk away from the Christmas market silently, feet dragging through the watery sludge. Then, Luca huffs. Andrei looks up at him imploringly, and he shakes his head.

“I think your brother was just about ready to give me a shovel talk.”

Andrei groans. “He _wouldn’t_!”

“I wouldn’t mind. It’s cute. He’s very protective about you, isn’t he?”

“Hmh.” Andrei leads them both to a less crowded part of the old town center, where the streets are narrow and dark, but magical covered in barely-disturbed snow. The river is still rushing in the distance, closing this part of the city off from the young districts with its towering buildings. Andrei often thinks this town itself, his hometown, is what made him interested in history to begin with.

“Do you… Do you live with him?” Luca asks, obviously curious yet unsure about the question. Andrei can’t say he doesn’t understand. It’s an unusual situation he grew up in, he’d be the first to admit that. And not only because, well, Alin is an unusual sort of person.

“Alin raised me,” he says quietly, “since I was seven.”

“Oh,” Luca breathes, breath clouding. He bumps shoulders with Andrei as they walk close together in a still alley.

“I’ve never known my mother.” He licks his dry lips. “And my father died then. Alin was only nineteen.”

“Really? Wow. I can’t even imagine.” Their arms brush again. This time, Andrei feels the long fingers curl around his wrist and slide down to his palm. He looks up at Luca, who opens his mouth as if in question. Before he can say anything, Andrei tangles their fingers together, and Luca smiles beautifully, casting his gaze down.

“I have so… So much respect for Alin,” Andrei says. And that’s all he really wants to say about the matter right now. Luca seems to understand this, because he only nods.

They cross the river and pass the old bell tower standing on the banks of it.

“So where are we going?” Luca asks eventually, and Andrei grins.

“To get lunch! And maybe I can show you Alin’s shop, he’d probably like that. Did your sister like that necklace, by the way?”

He huffs. “I’m not sure. She only asked about you.” He raises a surprisingly eloquent eyebrow at Andrei when he looks up. “Yes, it appears we have been set up, Andrei.”

“I’m not complaining,” Andrei decides.

“Nor I. Where _are_ we going for lunch?”

“Just let me show you, yeah?”

And so they end up in a small, cozy café near the edge of the old town, tucked away in an alley hidden behind the weathered gate. Andrei found it by accident a year or so back, and has since become a regular with his friends from university. He’s slightly anxious about what Luca thinks, because he might have said he wasn’t necessarily posh, but he still exudes an air of calm confidence that, in Andrei’s experience, only comes with the knowledge that one is provided for, and the café is a little… Eccentric.

“Oh!” Luca says when they step inside. He practically lights up in the Christmas lights, eyes sparkling again. Andrei instantly forgets he was worried at all. “This is such a nice place!”

“Yeah?”

“Is this where you’re going to work too, or…”

“Oh, no. This is just a place I like, I guess.”

Luca smiles brilliantly. “Yeah, I can see why. Although,” he adds, now smirking, “I have yet to taste the food.”

Andrei laughs and tugs him to a table in the back, hanging his coat over the back of the scaffold wood bench. Luca is, for some reason, framing the café between his fingers.

“Cinematography,” he mumbles when he catches Andrei watching with bemusement, and blushes. He’s wearing a rich blue turtleneck sweater underneath the coat, which looks just as fantastic on him.

Lunch is great, and afterwards, they wander around the city for a while longer. Everything looks different in the snow, soft and inviting but also harsh, unforgiving, at the same time. Andrei scrounges up some anecdotes from the history of the town, which goes back a long way but isn’t very exciting for most of it, and shows off Alin’s little shop. Luca talks about his study, and his siblings and parents and their Christmas traditions, and before either of them knows it, it’s turning dark and they’re finally back on the Christmas market.

The square, too, looks different in the snow, sludgy as it now is, especially coupled with the rapidly falling evening. The Christmas music doesn’t seem so bad anymore, and everything appears to smell sharper. The spiced wine and cider, wafts of sausages and burgers, the sweet smell of waffles and hot chocolate surround them like a blanket. Luca squeezes Andrei’s fingers and smiles.

Tsvetan is alone in the stall when they get there; he waves.

“Alin’s getting dinner,” he says. And then, as an afterthought, “Hi! Did you guys have fun?”

“Yeah,” Andrei replies, grinning. Luca nods.

“Luc! Is that you?” a woman’s voice calls. Andrei realizes it’s Anri, Luca’s sister, when he smiles and waves at the waffle stall. He does the same, and Anri beams. She has the same eyes as Luca. It’s busy in front of the waffle stall, but Anri’s hair looks as curly and impeccable as always, not a single strand escaping from her hairband. Maybe it’s a family thing.

“Do you need a hand?” Luca asks.

“Oh, well, ah…” She holds up a finger and pours some batter over the waffle maker. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your…” She gestures at Andrei, who feels himself blushing and hears Tsvetan laughing where he’s now helping a customer.

Luca looks down at him, and Andrei shrugs.

“I had a fun time, but if you wanna help your sister, that’s fine by me.” He bites his lip. “I wasn’t expecting to stay out this long, really.”

He nods and holds a thumb up at his sister.

The two of them walk around the stalls to the dark back. They linger between the doors to the Radacanus’ stall and Anri’s. Luca’s eyes glint in the gloom, blond hair backlit by the fairy lights strung up everywhere. He looks angelic.

“I had a fun time too. I can’t come by for long tomorrow, probably only to pick Anri up for Christmas dinner…”

“That sounds fun. Christmas dinner. Not the fact that I won’t see you much.” Andrei tentatively reaches for Luca’s coat, curling his cold fingers into the lapel, and smiles when Luca wraps his own hands around his wrists, holding him there as he steps closer. “I would like to see you more.”

Luca nods. “I would like that too.” He shakes his hair out of his face. “We’ll figure something out, I guess. Right?”

“Yeah.” Andrei smiles. He moves his hands up, stepping more into Luca’s space, touching the tips of their shoes together. “Bye, then.”

In response, Luca leans forward and presses his lips to the corner of Andrei’s mouth again, but he lingers longer this time. He smells sweet and fresh, reminding Andrei curiously of the summer even though his lips are freezing. He doesn’t move back when he removes his mouth, and only smiles when Andrei turns to him, eyes half-lidded. Andrei swallows and pushes their lips together, tugging on his Luca’s collar.

Luca’s mouth opens a little, softly catching Andrei’s bottom lip between both of his. His hands slide into Andrei’s hair, and he tilts his head, cold nose pressing against his cheekbone. Andrei can’t help but smile as his heart beats overtime, stomach churning with butterflies.

When Luca makes the tiniest noise in the back of his throat, Andrei gasps into his mouth and pushes tighter against him, sending him stumbling back into his sister’s stall.

They separate, laughing breathlessly, but Luca looks more amazing than ever before, flushed and happy, so Andrei can’t help but kiss him again. Their legs lock together. Andrei clasps Luca’s hips.

When they finally part again, Andrei spreads his hands over Luca’s chest, feeling it rise and fall under his touch. The man’s eyes twinkle.

“Yeah, bye,” he says, and Andrei laughs, reaching up to kiss him again, briefly.

“Say hi to your sister from me.”

“I will,” Luca laughs, disentangling their legs slowly. “I should…”

“Yes.” Andrei steps back to let him go. “See you tomorrow, maybe.”

He smiles, opens the door of the waffle stall, and steps in with a small wave. Andrei drags his hand over his burning face, leaning back against his brother’s stall and grinning into the dark.

“I take it you had fun?” asks Alin, out of nowhere. Andrei jumps.

“What—”

His brother saunters into view from the shadows, wearing a lopsided grin. He’s carrying a plastic bag, which Andrei supposes holds the dinner Tsvetan was talking about.

“I thought I’d wait to come back until you’d said goodbye to your guy.”

“ _Alin_!”

He laughs. “Don’t worry, I didn’t look. Wouldn’t want to, come on.”

Andrei pushes his hands through his hair, catching his fingers on some stubborn tangled strands. Alin pats his shoulder as he passes by, opening the door to the stall.

“Come, I’ve got dinner for you too if you want it.”

He _does_ , so he follows his brother back into the stall, blushing when Tsvetan winks at him. Alin only laughs.

* * *

_December 25_

True to his word, Luca only shows up briefly on Christmas Day, when evening is already falling. It’s busy on the market, but Alin doesn’t protest when Andrei leans out of the stall to haul a laughing Luca in by his green scarf and kiss him while Anri is locking up the waffle stall. He does _tsk_ when Andrei almost knocks a stack of cards over, but Andrei only flashes him a grin, unable to feel bothered by it.

“Luca, I wanted to ask you something,” he says, still leaning out of the stall, elbows on the counter.

“Oh?”

Andrei glances at Alin, who nods encouragingly.

“Yeah. I, ah… We won’t be here for the rest of the market because Alin’s getting married, and I was just…” He bites his lip, and Luca raises his eyebrows. “Would you like to come to his wedding with me?”

His eyes widen. “To… Isn’t that…” He looks at Alin, then back at Andrei. “Isn’t that sort of a big thing?”

“If you’re the one getting married, yes,” Andrei says, laughing nervously. “It’s only as big as you make it.”

“I suppose.” Luca presses his lips into a tight line, eyebrows knitting together.

“You’re very welcome,” Alin puts in, and Andrei feels a wave of gratefulness towards his brother.

“But if…” Luca stalls.

Andrei smiles. “If we don’t work out, I hope it’ll just be a good memory. It’s not _our_ wedding, Luca.”

“Well, I suppose you’re right about that.” He opens and closes his mouth a few times, then turns to his sister, who just walks up and is smiling brightly as she always seems to do.

“You should definitely go!” she says. “He’s right, weddings are good fun.” She slings an arm around Luca’s shoulders, and he sighs but smiles.

“Okay.” And, in reply to Andrei’s grin, “Yes, I’d love to come to your brother’s wedding with you. Let me know when and how.”

With a nod at Alin and a clumsy kiss for Andrei, Luca leaves, trailed by his sister, who wishes the Radacanu brothers a merry Christmas and a happy New Year over her shoulder. Andrei and Alin wave, and then Alin slings an arm around his shoulders.

“He’s a good guy,” he says, gesturing in the direction that Luca disappeared. “Tell him to wear something red, remember?”

Andrei grins and tells Alin he will.

* * *

_December 31_

Andrei’s best-laid plans about getting some homework done in the days between Christmas and New Year’s Eve have all proven in vain by a combination of Alin ramping up the restlessness and Tsvetan slowly joining him, and by texts from Luca at inopportune moments. Or opportune moments. It kind of depends on how you look at it.

Whatever the case, the Radacanu-Borisov – or Borisov-Radacanu, depending on who you ask – wedding is imminent. It’s already late in the evening; Andrei has been tasked with greeting the guests along with Alin’s best friend, and so he is lucky enough to be the first person to see Luca Morgens walk in, wearing a fitted dark red jacket with narrow lapels over a crisp white shirt. The man smiles when he sees Andrei, eyes flitting over his own outfit.

“You’re here,” Andrei says dumbly.

“I am.”

“You look amazing,” he breathes, dragging his fingers over Luca’s jacket. He hears Alin’s friend chuckle darkly somewhere behind him, but doesn’t pay attention to the man.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Luca says, smiling and straightening Andrei’s red bowtie. He kisses his cheek quickly. “How is your brother doing now?”

Andrei grimaces, and Luca laughs softly.

“He’ll be fine later, I’m sure,” Andrei says. “Anyway, ah… Let me show you to your seat!”

He does, and he and Alin’s friend join the guests not long after that. It isn’t a big gathering – neither Alin nor Tsvetan has a large family, but Andrei is seated next to Tsvetan’s mother, who keeps drying her eyes with a handkerchief Luca offered her earlier from Andrei’s other side. Andrei is still trying to get over the fact that the man was carrying a handkerchief when the ceremony starts.

He turns his attention towards his brother and… Soon-to-be brother-in-law, although Tsvetan feels like so much more than that. He and Alin have known each other for years, since before Andrei’s father died, and Andrei has had to watch his brother pine after his best friend for what felt like ages. He honestly couldn’t think of anyone better for Alin, and finds himself unable to wipe the grin off his face.

Mrs Borisova clasps his knee when her son says his vows. Andrei pats the back of her hand. He wonders what his own parents would have thought of Tsvetan, but he quickly shakes the thought off. It’s no use speculating about that. All that matters is that Alin loves him.

Before he knows it, it’s time to fulfill his role as ringbearer, which he manages to do without accident. Alin flashes him the brightest smile Andrei has ever seen on his face, rust-colored eyes shining. He begins to understand what Mrs Borisova’s deal is with the crying and quickly goes back to his seat.

The most exciting part is, of course, the reception.

Alin and Tsvetan, being the absolute idiots that they are, show up late to their own party, suspiciously ruffled, but it’s not yet midnight. With all the guests bundled up in warm coats and gloves, they go out into the cold night, which is luckily dry and clear. Andrei grasps Luca’s hand to pull him along to the front of the crowd that quickly gathers around the grooms.

Andrei doesn’t know whose idea it was – most people would bet Alin, but they don’t know that most of the crazy ideas actually start with Tsvetan, who is the worst enabler in the known universe – but instead of a traditional cake cutting, the two of them decided to set off a bunch of fireworks at the stroke of midnight to celebrate the beginning of both the new year and their marriage. It’s ridiculous, and exactly like them. Andrei loves it.

“What’s going on?” Luca whispers in his ear, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Wait and see,” Andrei teases, and the man squeezes his upper arm.

“It’s almost midnight!” Alin says loudly. “Which means the new year is almost here! And also the end of our wedding day.”

The guests laugh.

“I know, I know. We’d like to end both with a bang, and start the new with a flash!”

Amid excited murmurs from the curious guests, Alin joins a grinning Stefan, and they poise their hands, clasped together, over a button. Ten seconds from midnight, a countdown starts, and everyone loudly starts counting along.

On the stroke of midnight, Alin and Tsvetan press down, and the fireworks go up. Illuminated in blue and red, they kiss with their hands tangled together, and Andrei bites his lower lip hard, unexpectedly overcome by emotion. His brother deserves all the fucking happiness in the world, and he looks happier now than Andrei has ever seen him. The photographer – Luca’s brother, who has absurdly spiky hair – weaves through the people with surprising ease for a man his height and takes pictures from every angle imaginable.

Luca clasps him tightly, and he rests a hand on his coat, hooking his fingers into the collar.

“I think your brother might be a little crazy,” the man mumbles. Andrei laughs.

“He is, and I love him for it.”

* * *

_January 1_

When Alin is finally done hugging everyone and watching the fireworks outside, everyone traipses back in to have pie and champagne. Lots of champagne. Andrei has never seen so much champagne in one place before.

He and Luca have both had their fair share of it. Andrei is feeling slightly unsteady but wonderful, and Luca is grinning.

“You wanna dance?” he asks, wiping his hair away from his face. “I told you I did ballroom dancing, right?”

“Luca, I’m a fucking awful dancer.”

“I don’t believe that for a second, Andrei. You look like you’ve got a good pair of legs.” He pats Andrei’s ass for emphasis. Or something like that, he supposes.

Somehow, they end up dancing anyway, or what passes for it in Andrei’s case. He didn’t lie. He really is atrocious at it, but it makes Luca giggle in the most adorable way, so he doesn’t feel all too bad about it.

He doesn’t feel too bad about much of anything at the moment, in fact, even tripping over Luca’s legs and almost falling face-forward into Mrs Borisova’s lap. He just laughs it off and resumes his flailing around.

He dances with Tsvetan too, and the man hugs him embarrassingly tightly before he manages to escape.

“I feel like I should be jealous,” Luca mumbles. “As your… As… Am I your boyfriend?”

Andrei grins broadly, pressing both hands against Luca’s chest. “If I can be yours too, then yeah.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Luca says sagely. Then he laughs, slides his hands into Andrei’s hair, and kisses him deeply, tongue tracing his lips and hooking behind his teeth. Andrei arches into him, curling his arms around his back underneath his jacket.

A throat is cleared, and they pull apart slowly.

“Oh!” Luca says. “Adriaan! Merry New Year – I mean…”

The tall photographer, whose name is apparently Adriaan, raises his eyebrows.

“Happy New Year to you too, Luca. And you. Andrei, right?”

“Yes, that’s me!” Andrei grins at the man. He’s handsome, he supposes, in a rougher way than Luca is, but they are obviously related.

“Nice to meet you.” Adriaan taps at the camera thoughtfully. “That’s all I really wanted to say. Maybe I’ll see you around then, Andrei.”

“Who knows!”

When his brother is gone, Luca resumes kissing Andrei as if nothing has happened, but Andrei pulls back – albeit with difficulty.

“Hm?”

“We should…” He gestures vaguely at the room, then at the door, but Luca seems to understand what he means.

They’re out in the snow in no time, and into the hotel next door even quicker, kissing all the way up in the elevator and almost missing their floor. Andrei fumbles with the keycard to the room Alin has so thoughtfully booked for him so that no one has to go home drunk, and it doesn’t help that Luca plasters himself against his back.

Once inside, Andrei presses _his boyfriend_ up against the closed door, pushing them bodily together, all warmth and movement and hands scrabbling at his back, dipping underneath his shirt. He tries to unbutton Luca’s shirt while kissing him, but his fingers feel uncooperative and the buttons are so _tiny_ , have they always been so tiny? That’s just unfair. He’s on the verge of ripping the whole thing open, because how ridiculously hot would that be anyway, when Luca shoves him towards the bed and yanks both shirt and jacket over his head.

Andrei has a vague thought about _coats_ , but Luca is coming at him with intent, face flushed and hair messy, and all rational thoughts flee his mind.

They press together, and somehow Andrei’s shirt is gone too, how did that happen? When he falls backwards onto the bed, the world spins for a couple of seconds, and he closes his eyes.

When he opens them, Luca is looking down at him with dark eyes, and their chests press together. Andrei grabs the man’s shoulders to pull him down, kissing him as if he’s starved for it, nails scratching over his shoulder blades. He rolls his hips up urgently, groans when Luca does the same and heat shoots through his body.

There are hands on his hips and lips on his neck, and Andrei blinks at the ceiling.

“Luca,” he breathes. And then slightly steadier, pushing at the man’s shoulders, “ _Luca_.”

He looks up. “Hm?”

“We’re—” He looks up at the ceiling again instead of down at his face, tries to control his breathing. “We shouldn’t do this. Now.”

“What?” he mumbles. The tips of his fingers stroke absentminded patterns into the skin of Andrei’s hips. Andrei swallows heavily and sits up a little straighter. Luca, to his credit, lets him.

“We’re drunk. ’Least I am.” He pushes the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Doesn’t seem like a very smart idea.”

Luca sits back on his knees, licks his lips, and smiles slowly, lopsidedly, nodding.

“You’re right. You’re… Yes, you’re right.”

“It’s ‘cause I’m a fucking genius,” Andrei giggles. “Always know when I’m drunk.”

Luca nods sagely. “So then we just sleep? That sounds good too.”

“Sleep,” Andrei confirms, still giggling.

And so they do, tangled up together and without taking their pants off.

Next morning is hell. They decide not to talk about it.

* * *

_January 5_

Alin and Tsvetan take off on the third day of the year for a week’s holiday together, to celebrate their marriage. This means that Andrei has the house to himself. He takes advantage of this fact by a) not wearing pants, and b) inviting Luca over on the fifth.

To Andrei’s credit, he does do his homework on the two days between those dates, even if he isn’t wearing pants.

Luca looks around the house curiously, poking at Alin’s occult trinkets, asking Andrei to explain what their meaning is, which he does happily. It’s great that he seems so genuinely interested in Andrei’s life.

“I hate champagne right now,” he says, late in the afternoon, reclining on the quilt-draped couch with a glass of red wine. “I’ve had enough of it until next year New Year’s Eve. Or this year, I suppose.”

Andrei laughs but agrees with him. He has draped his legs – he is wearing pants at the moment, though only sweatpants – over Luca’s lap, and the man has been absentmindedly stroking them for a while now. It’s very comfortable. The radio is on in the background, and it’s snowing again. It feels safe, like this.

“How do you feel about cocktails?” Andrei asks.

“Hmm. I do like those, yes.”

“Good.”

He chuckles softly. “Is that so?”

“Yeah! You should stop by the bar where I work sometime, I’ll make you a cocktail. I’m pretty good at them.”

“That does sound tempting.” Luca’s long fingers drag over Andrei’s shin. “I can take the train from my home, it’s barely twenty minutes.”

Andrei grins, tilting his head back to rest it on the armrest of the couch. They probably should decide what they want out of this when they both start school again.

“And,” Luca adds, “you should come over to mine too. I want to get to know you better.”

“You’ve seen me throw up,” Andrei mumbles, and yelps when Luca pinches his foot. “I know, we wouldn’t talk about it! Sorry!”

“I’m sure we could make it work though, right?” Luca asks, voice wavering. He’s taking a rather large gulp of his wine when Andrei looks up at him, cheeks flushed. He sounded so _vulnerable_.

“I think we could,” he says. He sits up a little straighter and picks his own wine up from the coffee table. “Clink on it?”

Laughing, Luca clinks their glasses together.

When the wine is gone, Andrei stands up and goes to the kitchen to make dinner. Luca wanders in after a while, asking if he needs help with anything and drinking water from his wine glass. He slices tomatoes dutifully and gives Andrei a leg up to the highest cupboard when he can’t reach a bowl.

Well, a leg up. He wraps his arms around Andrei’s ass and lifts him up, which does cause him to have to make an awkward twist backwards but works.

Instead of putting him back on the ground, Luca lowers Andrei to the kitchen counter, dragging his hands back to his hips, where his sweatpants are slung low and a patch of skin has become visible due to his stretching. He runs his fingers over the skin, looking up at Andrei with twinkling eyes.

Andrei quickly puts his bowl aside and scoots forward on the counter so that he can wrap his legs around Luca’s hips. The man smiles. Andrei smirks down at him in response, dragging him against the counter to kiss him.

It starts slow, just a meeting of lips as Andrei cards his fingers through Luca’s soft hair, but Luca makes that small noise again when Andrei tilts his head, like a tiny moan in the back of his throat, and his fingers clench on the skin of Andrei’s hips. He tastes like tomatoes when Andrei’s tongue meets his.

One of Luca’s warm hands drags up over Andrei’s back underneath his shirt, which makes him shiver and tighten his legs. The other hand slides down to his thigh and hooks behind his knee, dragging them even closer together. Luca gasps beautifully when Andrei bites his lower lip, and in response lavishes kisses down his jaw and over his throat. Andrei throws his head back, groaning.

“Andrei,” Luca whispers, lips still against his throat. “I want to…”

“ _Yes_ ,” Andrei breathes back. “Fuck dinner.” And then, when Luca tries to drag him off the counter, “Oh no, no, I can walk, you’re not gonna carry me.”

If Luca’s legs feel anywhere near as shaky as Andrei’s, it’s probably for the best.

They’re kissing again in Andrei’s bedroom, stumbling this way and that, Luca’s hands both underneath his shirt and Andrei’s fumbling with the buttons on his.

“Must you wear these fancy things?” he grumbles. Luca laughs against his lips.

“I enjoy making life hard, Andrei.”

The way he says his name sends a shiver through Andrei’s body. He pushes the shirt up, and tugs his own off and their chests press together. Andrei kisses down Luca’s throat, drags his teeth along the man’s collarbone, delighted with the sounds that coaxes from his red lips and the fingers that clench in his hair. He’s especially pleased with the way Luca’s hips twitch against his own when he drags his thumbs over his nipples experimentally.

“ _Andrei_.”

“Yes,” he breathes back.

They stumble towards his bed. Andrei somehow ends up on his back, with Luca kneeling over his legs and fumbling with the buttons of his own fitted pants, apparently frustrated. Andrei laughs.

“Oh, shush.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

Luca just shakes his head at him, and finally succeeds in getting his pants open. He settles over Andrei on his hands and knees, kissing him again and letting Andrei push his pants away, which he does delightedly, palming his ass as he goes.

Andrei’s sweatpants come off a lot easier, and then it’s just the two of them pressing, slip-sliding together, Andrei’s hands dragging over every part of Luca’s body he can reach, Luca’s lips everywhere at once, legs interlocking. Andrei’s pushes himself up against Luca, hands curled around his shoulders from underneath his arms, tucking their noses together. Their lips barely-touch. Luca’s long, clever fingers wrap around both of them, and his green eyes are dark and steady on Andrei’s.

Andrei is unsure which of them comes undone first, only that it happens quickly, and he arches his back while Luca pants against his throat, his breath searing hot.

They’re both quiet for a long while, lying in a sweaty, tangled heap on top of the sheets. Andrei strokes Luca’s hair where the man rests his head on his chest. He giggles when Luca loops a finger around his belly button.

“Are you ticklish?” he asks gleefully.

“Not much.”

“I will put that to the test later,” he mumbles.

“Later,” Andrei echoes. He props himself up on his elbows, and Luca sits up, looking at him curiously. “Yes. Later. You’ll have lots of time, I hope.”

He smiles softly, and his eyes twinkle. “I hope so too.”

They just look at each other, but when Andrei wants to lean forward to press a kiss to Luca’s lips, his stomach ruins the moment by grumbling loudly. Luca laughs.

“Dinner?” he asks.

“Sounds good,” Andrei confirms.

He doesn’t complain when Luca decides to wear his sweatpants.

**Author's Note:**

> Also I, as a Dutch person, cannot take the name Adriaan seriously, I'm sorry. Look up _Bassie en Adriaan_. I grew up watching that show. The one in blue is Adriaan. Now please imagine Netherlands in his clothes. You see my problem. :'D


End file.
